


Everything That's Yet To Come

by RosemaryBagels



Series: Yet To Be Forgotten [2]
Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Avengers Family, Carrying On, Clint Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fury is an ass, M/M, Sadness, Sequel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, cancer fic, odin is an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosemaryBagels/pseuds/RosemaryBagels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony struggles in his fight against the disease overriding his body.</p>
<p>The Avengers struggle to remain strong for him, denying the fact that they may loose one of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything That's Yet To Come

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to Everything We've Left Behind, and will not make any sense if you haven't read that first.
> 
> Beta'd by Mad As A Hatter 13 over on FFN.

Bruce doesn’t read the diagnosis.

He doesn’t want to know what medications Tony is on, he doesn’t want to hear the risk factors of radiation therapy versus chemotherapy. He doesn’t want to hear all the reasons why the doctors say that Tony only has two years to live.

He knows enough to know it’s bad.

He wants to be able to enjoy the time he has left, rather than spending the last drops of Tony’s time on worrying about how long he has.

To which Steve nods and says fair enough.

Surprisingly, it’s Clint who steps up to the task, getting close to the doctor, discussing various treatments and thoroughly researching options. And Tony quietly mutters to himself that no one really has to do anything like that for him, and then Steve politely tells him to shut up and then goes back to making food.

Then Tony does the thing where he wants to chuckle but won’t because his chest really hurts that day, and he ends up smiling awkwardly instead.

Bruce likes seeing the expression, because it is an actual smile.

He just hates that it has to be on Tony’s face because the man looks so beautiful when laughing out loud.

Pepper has become a usual figure at their table now.

Not that she wasn’t around before, but there was some mild hostility towards her after Tony recounted their breakup, so she rarely spent any time with the other Avengers. Whatever hostility once existed is now all but gone, with worry about Tony’s emotional wellbeing soothed over by his current status with Bruce, and annoyance at her weakened by obvious concern over Tony’s illness.

If anyone is miffed by her presence, they do their best to hide it, if only to satisfy Tony.

While Pepper herself appears to be completely grateful for the renewed contact with the man Bruce is pretty sure she still loves, there are certain boundaries she does not overstep. She knows very well that she is not Avengers material. She does not fit into the family the rag tag group has managed to fit together. Unlike Thor, who has an unspoken place at the table no matter where he is, there is no place for Pepper when she is not around.

Bruce is very glad that she understands this.

Pepper is a wonderful woman. She is strong and smart, sarcastic but also caring, and Bruce can see how Tony once fell for her.

He can also see how Tony really isn’t in love with her now.

He still sees adoration in Tony’s eyes when he looks at Pepper, and the two of them occasionally make jokes that no one else in the room understands. But Tony keeps his distance and Pepper respects that.

And when Bruce manages to catch Tony’s eye from across the room, he knows that the look of utter devotion that crosses the billionaire’s face is for him and him alone.

.

Tony isn’t particularly surprised when Rhodey wanders into the tower, but it does not stop the feeling of dread from settling in his stomach. He knew the man got back sometime around now, and he figured that his friend would drop by sooner or later. That doesn’t change what he has to do though.

By his request, Pepper had left him in the dark about Tony’s current health situation. Rhodey had incredibly important military things to do, and Tony didn’t want the man messing up and getting shot because he was too worried about a friend who really should be able to take care of himself.

Plus, Tony wants to be the one to break it to him.

“Hey man, how’s it holding up?”

“It’s… alright… I guess. Life is being a bitch and Fury is hounding my ass for updates so… How long are you back for?”

“Why, are you planning something?”

Tony shrugs. He doesn’t know how to answer that without giving away how dire his situation actually is, and isn’t sure yet how dire he wants Rhodey to think his situation is.

“I have three weeks, though I’d appreciate it if there wasn’t a repeat of the birthday party incident.”

Tony winces, he knows how bad that was, and given where he stands now it was a legitimate concern to have, but Rhodey has no idea so…

“That wasn’t on my list of things to do.”

Tony hesitates. If he didn’t do it now he wasn’t going to do it at all, and then Pepper would flip shit…

“Listen man, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You aren’t building something else that’s going to get you in shit with Shield, are you?”

“No, nothing like that but… you’re going to want to sit down.”

Rhodey sobers up, and slowly crosses the room to sit on a chair, and Tony sits on the sofa across from him. While it would be easy to just give him a file folder like he did with Natasha, Tony knows his friend would rather hear it from Tony himself.

Tony takes a deep breath.

“Tony what’s going on? Are you in trouble or something…”

“No. No it’s…” Now or never. “I have cancer.” Tony watches as the concern on Rhodey’s face gets wiped away by shock.

“You… you aren’t shitting me are you? You are actually fucking serious.”

“Yes. I really wish I wasn’t, but I am being serious.”

“O… kay…” Rhodey looks slightly horrified, but that slowly dissolves into the military mask he wears during the emotional hardships. Tony waits, giving his friend time to adjust to the news.

“How bad is it?” Rhodey says after a while.

“Well…”

“I mean, is it a die in a week sort of thing, or a live a long life in utter agony sort of thing.”

“Two years.” Tony’s voice is cold. “My doctor said I had about two years to live and that was…”

“What?” Rhodey prompts.

“That was four months ago.” Rhodey sighs, and then very deliberately puts his hands on the arm rests in such a controlled motion that Tony knows Rhodey is angry, but isn’t going to lash out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice is quiet.

“I’m telling you now,” Tony responds. The statement hangs in the air between them, and Tony hopes that Rhodey doesn’t read too much into that. Or maybe he is hoping that Rhodey can somehow pick up on the things that Tony simply cannot say.  _I didn’t want you to worry. It was hard enough telling the people the little I did. I must be horribly broken because I can’t manage to communicate with my friends even when I am dying._

“What does the rest of the team think?”

“They’re… actually being really supportive. I didn’t think it was going to go like that but… they proved they care. I can trust them.” Tony pretends he doesn’t hear Rhodey’s shocked intake of breath at that statement, and continues, “I mean sure, Fury is desperate to wring every good idea out of me before I kick the bucket, but the rest of them are all being really nice. Pepper is devastated, obviously, and a part of me wants to let her back in, but the team has been really good at ensuring her time with me is limited, and Bruce is well…”

“He’s the one you totally had a crush on last fall, and refused to admit, right?” Tony lets out a dry chuckle at that.

“Yeah well, I figured there was a chance with him, he even said he really liked me, but he was worried about Hulking out and destroying shit. And then shit hit the fan and I realised I was dying, and figured it was better if I didn’t pursue him or anyone really, but he came and found me. He said he didn’t want to regret not being with me, and if now was the only chance he got, he was going to take it. So, I guess that’s the long way of saying I have a boyfriend now.”

“Are you happy? I don’t mean in general ‘cause… but with him. Are you happy with him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s great. He’s… different than Pepper, and that’s… that’s really really good. And he’s reallynice, and it really sucks that my life is finally falling into place now that I know I’m not going to be around for much longer to live it.”

Rhodey moves off of his chair and reaches out, it’s not much, just a hard grip on Tony’s shoulder, but it’s enough to jar Tony from his internal wanderings, and Rhodey can see the sorrow in his eyes when Tony finally looks at him.

“I’m proud of you, man,” Rhodey tries to keep his tone casual, because god knows how much Tony hates the personal conversations, but he knows he doesn’t entirely succeed. “There are lots of people out there who never find that.”

Tony smiles and nods, scrubbing a hand over his face to pull himself from the emotional ditch he’d fallen into.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“And if I wanted a factual breakdown of exactly what is happening to you then I’d talk to…”

“Clint. Or Pepper, I guess, but Clint seems to know the most about it around here.”

“Alright. Okay then. Thanks.”

.

Tony talks of going to Paris.

Bruce knows exactly what Tony is doing. He knows that life with Tony Stark was never going to be smooth sailing, and now that there is a definitive time limit on everything they could or might do, Tony wants to do all the extravagant stuff. Tony wants to lavish him with gifts, because if they can live their entire lives within those two years, then loosing him will not be so hard on Bruce. Bruce knows exactly what Tony is doing.

He is having none of it.

At first Tony thinks it’s just because he has shitty ideas. I mean they haven’t known each other that long; Tony isn’t an expert on everything Bruce Banner might find fun. But Tony has always dreamed of Paris, and when Bruce doesn’t want to go, Tony actually has the guts to ask why.

So Bruce explains.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do the glorious and extravagant things with Tony, but those aren’t the memories he wants to have. He wants the lazy days spent lounging and playing cards, the exuberant nights spent madly putting together things in the lab. He wants the sarcastic banter, the snappy comebacks, the days they spend fighting and training, and the days where they do nothing at all. He wants Tony as he is, not Tony as he could be.

He explains this all to the man in front of him, distracted by simply attempting to get his point across. He comes back to the conversation to find Tony with tears in his eyes, wrapping him in a grateful hug.

“Holy shit,” Tony whispers. “Okay that’s... Okay. I can work with that.”

Then it’s Tony that is kissing him for once, and Bruce completely lets go, allowing the man to plunder as he pleases, and pulling Bruce’s ever pliant body against him. It is passionate, inelegant, and so absolutely Tony that Bruce just wants to melt into him.

He doesn’t move beyond where Tony puts him.

Tony’s been hesitant about progressing beyond kissing, and the occasional hand hold or cuddle on the couch at movie night. Bruce isn’t sure if this is Tony’s attempt at being considerate of the Hulk issue, or his own concerns about how his illness will affect his sexual activity, but he doesn’t particularly care. He is satisfied with the level of intimacy they have, and if Tony is uncomfortable going further, then Bruce isn’t going to push him.

Of course he can daydream... But he absolutely isn’t going to push him.

.

Thor returns to Midgard with a triumphant smile on his face, several stories he wants to tell. He wants to go see Jane, despite numerous apologies for not talking to her during his brother’s invasion of Midgard, he has a feeling she still hasn’t forgiven him just yet. Heimdall tells him of something happening with his Midgardian shield brothers he should be a part of, though he wouldn’t say exactly what, so Thor makes it his priority to stop in at The Tower before making his way to Jane.

Thor wanders in from Stark’s landing pad, recalling the last time he accidentally flew through one of his windows thinking it was open, and having Tony tell him to just ‘use the damn thing, it’s what it’s built for’. There is no one around, so Thor asks Jarvis who directs him a few floors lower where Tony and Clint are.

“Hey, Point Break, glad you could make it!” Tony calls out when he spots Thor. Thor grins, and his grin matches Clint’s when the archer spins around. They both drop the cards they are holding and move away from the table so Thor can come around and give them both a hug.

Clint gives a chocked, “hi Thor,” and Thor pulls back to see the two of them smiling up at him.

“Hello, good friends,” he booms, “Where are the others?”

“Well Steve is doing that thing for Pepper,” Clint begins.

“And Bruce was mildly horrified by the lack of fresh vegetables in the fridge so he went shopping,” Tony continues.

“And Natasha has a meeting with Fury,” Clint finishes. Thor is mildly in awe for a moment. There were some in Asgard who spent so much time together as to complete each other’s sentences, but he had thought such a feat here on Midgard would be rather unheard of.

“Had!” Natasha calls from the doorway as she strolls in. “There wasn’t really much to say, so he let me go early.”

“Yeah right,”

“I may have done some convincing.”

“Jarvis where’s Bruce and Steve? Cause if they’re still out, tell them to hurry back, so we can have the entire gang together for once.”

“Or course, Sir,” Jarvis responds.

Natasha has a soft smile on her face as she approaches, and Thor marvels at how comfortable she seems to have gotten in the time that he was away.

“How was Asgard?” she asks, when she’s standing a few feet from Thor.

“Busy and intensely boring at the same time,” Thor responds. He loves Asgard dearly, but the more time he spends upon Midgard, the more new things he is introduced to, and the more Asgard seems rather... narrow minded.

“Funny how things can do that,” Clint mutters, but there is a smile on his face.

Thor allows himself to relax when his companions start a new one of their card games one he already knows and is slowly gaining more skill at. His annoyance at being sent to the Avengers Tower rather than going to see Jane is melting away the more Thor observes his friends.

Natasha’s skills at playing others come very close to rivaling his brothers, and while in game it is impossible to tell her hand, her face was surprisingly open when Tony shifted to brace himself against a piece of furniture. Considering that, had Tony’s face always looked so gaunt? Not that his friend was carrying himself any differently, no Stark was bragging as much as he always did, but he almost seemed just a bit more frail. A bit more open too.

Maybe Heimdall is right.

Steve returns from the errand Lady Pepper had sent him on at the same time that Bruce returns with the food substances the house had been lacking.

“Jarvis told me Thor had swung by,” Bruce is smiling, “So I grabbed some more pop tarts.”

“Probably a good idea, Big Guy” Tony acknowledges as Clint helps him up. Thor smiles as Bruce allows Tony to breach his personal space. The two were dancing around each other for long enough; it is good that they are finally together. They don’t actually kiss, just press foreheads together, but Natasha mouths ‘aren’t they cute’ from across the room, which makes Steve roll his eyes as he grabs the bags Bruce had abandoned.

Thor enjoys working in the kitchen; it is not a task he would ever do on Asgard unless traveling, which makes the chopping of vegetables and the stirring of pasta an experience unique to Midgard. Thor has prepared food with Jane and Selvig, and occasionally Darcy when she decides to help out, but he much prefers doing the task with the Avengers as neither Tony nor Clint seem to be able to keep silent for any period of time, and between the two of them, they usually have everyone laughing.

Steve washes potatoes before handing them to Natasha who peels them, and the two of them are the only ones who do not end up throwing food substances around the kitchen. Thor is pleased to see Bruce so alive and allows himself to relax into the rhythm of chopping and dodging vegetables, and throwing bits of cucumber in Clint’s hair when he isn’t looking. For once he is entirely responsibility-lessand carefree.

It feels nice.

The meal they sit down to eat is mangled (except the potatoes, those are pristine), but Thor thinks he likes it better this way. As if the food somehow absorbed the happiness in the air to flavour itself. Clint chucks a hunk of bread at Tony and gets a sharp “we do not throw food at the table,” from Steve. The table is calm for a little while, until Natasha launches her projectile potatoes and gets them to stick smack in the center of Steve’s forehead.

Then it’s utter bedlam.

Twenty minutes later, Tony is puking into the toilet.

Bruce is in there with him, rubbing soothing circles into his back, while Natasha rushes off to call Pepper and make tea. Steve collapses on a sofa, close enough to keep an eye on everyone, but far enough to be out of their space, and Clint paces while the two of them argue.

“It’s the third time this week, Clint! We need to talk to Dr. Lestrade about changing his medication.”

“It’s the best goddamn medication there is!”

“Well it clearly can’t be all that great if it’s making him worse.”

“It’s not making him worse!”

“Then what do you call this!”

Thor stands frozen, the tension in the air threatening to pull him into several pieces. Natasha seems so calm, but Thor can see her shoulders trebling. Tony is slumped in a puddle of resigned misery, Bruce ever the healer calmly beside him, and the aggression builds between Steve and Clint and Thor wonders if he should step in between the two of them. He has no idea what is going on here, but it is painfully obvious that something is horribly wrong.

“Normal,” Clint sounds so defeated, and Thor hates it, not only because one of his friends is admitting defeat, but also because if Clint means what Thor thinks he means...

“This is entirely normal for someone on Chemo.”

Steve only groans and Thor feels his heart sink.

“Fuck that shit,” he mutters, “there has to be a better way.”

“If there is, I don’t know it.”

Thor stands awkwardly off to the side as Natasha slowly returns, placing several hot beverages on the table which the three people there proceed to ignore. Natasha sits wire straight beside Steve, close but not touching. Steve ignores her until she gives in, slumping against him, then he brings up a tentative hand and strokes her hair. Clint collapses on a far chair, glaring at the room before flicking out his phone. There was such delicate balance here that Thor didn’t want to disturb, but didn’t want to leave either. These were his people, the allies he had chosen for himself. Tony is clearly not okay and they all seem so... resigned. They’d given up this fight before Thor even knew a fight was occurring. Thor grinds his nails into his palm. He should have been here, he should have seen something!

Bruce emerges carrying an entirely collapsed Tony curled up in his arms. His head is lolling back, and Thor realises that even if Tony is awake, he certainly won’t remember this moment, hence him not protesting to being carried.

“Yeah, I’m gonna make sure he actually gets in bed this time,” Bruce mutters, heading out the door. Thor waits until the door has closed behind them to break the tense silence.

“Is Tony going to be okay?” Odin’s beard, he sounds like a child, but his words get the desired reaction when suddenly all the attention in the room is focused on him.

“Pull up a chair, Big Guy,” Clint says, “This is gonna take a while.”

.

Tony wakes disoriented, but the ache in his chest has lessened, so he counts it as a good day. Bruce’s eyes hover on his, and it takes Tony a few moments to realise that the thing his partner finds so intriguing is him. Then the memory of what happened last night emerges, and Tony groans and rolls over, trying to escape the all seeing eyes. Bruce chuckles and scoots over so he can wrap his arms around Tony.

“Oh god, that really happened didn’t it?”

“What, waking up in your own bed?”

“Oh, shut up you,” Tony muttered, “you know what I meant.”

“Of course, King of Vagueness.”

“Oh don’t get me started on that. I can be downright horrible when I want to be.”

“That I don’t doubt.”                                                       

Tony hesitates, tensing in Bruce’s arms.

“Did Thor take it okay?”

Bruce sighs, “As well as anyone would who suddenly learns his friend is dying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

“I feel like... every time something really nice is happening, I do something to ruin it, and then you guys have to clean up the mess cause I’m to fucked up to do it myself.”

“Tony!” Bruce snaps. Tony allows himself to be manhandled into rolling over, but he refuses to meet Bruce’s eyes. He waits in silence for Bruce to say something, anything, for some acknowledgement of the sickening truth that the Avengers lives would probably be better if they hadn’t met poor sick Tony Stark.

Bruce does none of this. He simply cradles him slowly until curiosity wins over and Tony looks up so see his face again, and then Bruce presses his lips against his own.

Tony is never going to get used to this. He’s shocked enough when people willingly decide to befriend him, but dating the messed up person that he is, knowing full well that this relationship will end in heartbreak because he’s fucking dying...

Bruce’s lips are warm.

The kiss breaks off and Tony ends up lost in Bruce’s eyes that always seem to perceive the emotion Tony tries to hide, and somehow he knows that Bruce knows exactly what he is thinking.

“You’re not fucked up,” Bruce mutters.

And caught in the half breath between daybreak and morning, Tony almost manages to believe him.

.

Steve glares at Nick Fury across the pristine Shield desk. Fury looks unaffected, but Steve can feel the tension in the room.

“How can I help you today, Captain?” It’s just a formality; Fury knows damn well why he is here.

“It’s about Stark.” Steve will play this game; he wants more information on why Fury is doing what he is.

“What about Stark, exactly?” Fury’s words are tight and clipped, and Steve knows he wants to avoid this topic.

“He didn’t leave his lab for the entire day yesterday.”

“A fact that has been pointed out to me numerous times. Do you have something you’d actually like to say, or are you just wasting my time?”

“He was talking about rockets.”

“If we are going to be fighting Aliens on a regular basis, space travel may be a necessity.”

“Last week he was talking about jet packs and phasers.”

“Both of which Shield has but they are clunky. Stark had some new ideas to help with manoeuvrability and size that will save the lives of many agents.

“And the week before that he was talking about green engines for the hellicarrier.”

“Your point being?”

Steve sighs and grits his teeth. Trust Fury to make this as agonising as he possibly could.

“You’re trying to get all his good ideas before he kicks the bucket.”

Steve forced his face to stay impassive towards Fury’s shocked face, that is to say his eyebrows twitched.

“Look, Captain—“

“It needs to stop. I know what you are going to say: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. But you know what? I don’t give a shit.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but it’s in my job description.”

“And Tony isn’t going to stop creating until the day he actually does leave us, and in the meantime giving him good reasons to skip meals and not sleep is extremely counterproductive. And jet packs? Really?”

Fury makes eye contact for the first time, and Steve rolls his eyes leaving the room, point made.  Idiot.

Pepper meets him as he strides out of the building.

“How did it go?” she asks.

“Well I certainly got a reaction from him,” Steve responds, “but we’ll see if that actually has any lasting effect.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Well then it’ll be time for the Avengers to drop affiliations with Shield.”

“That’s a big step.”

“Well if Fury insists in being an ass about things, we can go ahead and be dickwads right back.”

“Fair enough. Do you want me to look into the legalities of separating from Shield?”

“If you have any free time that would be great. I know you have your hands full dealing with Tony’s suits.”

“Oh I have plenty of free time to spare, and even if I didn’t, I’d do it anyway.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Look, Tony has this allure that draws people that want money to him, but an attitude that drives pretty much everyone else away. Before you guys came along he could probably have counted the number of people he actually considered friends on one hand. But you guys changed that, and I’m grateful. And if spending hours reading and rereading legal contracts is the way I can express that, then that is what I am going to do.”

“Pepper... Thanks. We’ll do our best to keep him sane.”

“I know you will.”

.

“Father!” Thor announces himself, barely even noticing the other people within the room until he is halfway through it. Frigga turns to him while Odin does not, but Thor can see his father’s hands clenched so he at least knows he has been heard. He waits off to the side for Odin’s official business to be done with, which is the correct procedure despite his interruption and he knows that following the correct procedure will unsettle his Father because patient he has never been.

It’s hard, but Thor grits his teeth and pushes through because there are more important things at stake here than his attention span.

Loki would be so proud.

Thor forces his face blank at the thought of his brother, and it helps. It’s like Loki, who could be Very Obviously Angry when he wanted to be but it was impossible to tell when he was actually hurt, and it’s like Tony, whom you can tell is actually furious when he becomes blank like this.

It’s the mantra of tonylokilokitony that keeps him standing, rooted and silent, for the full hour that it takes Odin to finish his business. His lips are pressed into a thin hard line suppressing something, but Thor cannot read him as he approaches.

“Thor,” Frigga smiles, delighted to see him despite being cautious about the tension in the room, “We didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“Something came to my attention that I wanted to talk to Father about”

His mother pats his shoulder in a comforting but accepting gesture, “come see me before you head out again,” she whispers on her way out.

“And what, my son, could possibly have caught your attention in the day you to have been gone?” His tone is bored, and Thor’s blank mask slips on easier this time.

“I come to ask a request.”

“Which I can say nothing to unless I know what it is.”

“Tony Stark, the Man of Iron, my shield brother who was essential to the defeat of the chitauri in Midgard,” best not to mention Loki, that is an argument for another time, “has fallen victim to a bizarre and horrid sickness rampaging through his homeland.” This is not how Thor thinks of it, but it will explain to his father exactly what is going on.

Odin’s lips are pursed again. “You are asking for permission to use Asgardian magics upon him.”

“I do not wish to make him immortal, Father. But there is something sucking the life force within him and if left unchecked he will be dead before winter graces these lands again.”

“And is the sickness of Midgardian origin?” Odin might as well have been looking at bland scenery for all the enthusiasm he gave the conversation.

“Yes,” Thor reluctantly hisses out.

“Then I see no reason as to why Asgard should help with this issue.”

“Father—“

“If the illness is as widespread as you have made it out to be, then surely Midgard has healers working on it. Can he not get treatment from them?”

“They do have treatment, but it is not a guaranteed thing. The treatment can sometimes be just as damaging as the original disease.”

“How unfortunate for the Midgardian to be stuck with them, then.”

“IT’S NOT THEIR FAULT!” Odin actually manages to make eye contact for the first point in the conversation, and Thor wonders if this is how Loki felt all the time: forced to take drastic measures just to get his point across.

“It is not whose fault, my son.”

“It is no fault of the Midgardians that they were born without the glorious benefits we upon Asgard have,” Thor forces through clenched teeth. Odin sighs.

“Regardless of Midgards situation, Asgard does not have the resources to heal every lowlife that desires it. We have a kingdom to run and it cannot be done through charity.”

“So there can be no help for him,” Thor allows the blank look to slip on in the place of the burning, horrifying, unnamed emotion welling in his chest.

“You can help him with whatever knowledge you do poses, but Asgard cannot waste resources on someone who would be dead too soon to fully appreciate them.”

“Of course, All Father,” Thor gives a half bow, before turning on his heels and leaving the room. Anger, resentment, and disappointment all mix together in him, but if he thinks about it; he has no idea why he expected any different. Odin has shown no love for the peoples of Earth, nor any interest in Thor’s time spent among them, much in the same way he dismissed Loki’s time with the people of Alfheim.

Thor allows his fist to slam into a nearby pillar causing several nearby servants to jump. He mutters a quick apology before moving on.

Tony had talked of this. He’d been curious about Asgardian culture, and Thor had been happy to talk of his friends and family, but Tony had some other pointed questions. There had been fights against discrimination all across Earth, with different amounts of success in various places, and Tony wanted to know if Asgard was free of prejudice. Thor explained as much as he knew, and Tony looked thoughtful.

“Sounds like your entire society is rooted in bigotry.”

Thor has been aware of the gender issues given his close relationship with Sif, but Tony had given him a lot of other things to look out for. Segregation of class, homophobia, and racism, they were all here and present, and unlike people on Earth, there is no one challenging them. Sure there were people like Sif who were statistical anomalies, but Asgard seems entirely content to be entirely rooted in bigotry.

Thor hadn’t wanted to believe it, but with the insurmountable evidence in place it becomes impossible to deny.

His father banished him to Earth, not to be involved with the rich and diverse culture, but to be ‘humbled’ (demeaned) into a lesser form of arrogance by their supposed inferiority.

Thor comes back to himself realising that in his distress he had been heading automatically to his mother’s chambers. Not that he doesn’t want to see her but after mild consideration he walks past the gardens that are a shortcut through the castle, and then a sharp right heading in a different direction.

He has someone else he wants to see.

.

Tony wakes up screaming.

There is pain radiating throughout his entire body, and it feels like someone placed a huge rock on his chest which makes every half breath he draws in agony.

He is dimly aware that Bruce is moving beside him, Jarvis saying something, but he’s underwater and everything is muffled. Steve’s face swims into his vision and says something about an ambulance and Tony forces himself to nod even though that only makes him dizzy.

Then there is a gentle rocking motion, and Tony realises he’s being carried by Hulk. Tony wants to say something, to reach out and reassure the man he loves...

He loves...

Oh god what if this is the end and he’ll never get a chance to tell Bruce he loves him. The pain is getting stronger now, but Tony has to force the words through his lips...

The Hulk places a hand over his face. It’s rough but warm and so very gentle.

“Live,” he growls, “and tell us what you need to tell us when you get home.”

Tony survives the agony of the hospital ride cocooned in a blanket of awe.

.

Clint barely restrains himself from throwing the glass of water he has in his hand, just to see it smash into numerous pieces upon the far wall.

This is not goddamn fair.

They were doing everything, Clint made sure of that. They’d done as much radiation therapy as they could without interfering with the arc reactor, and the chemotherapy was going to prevent things from getting any worse. This was the way is was supposed to go, Tony was supposed to stabilise and he wouldn’t be great but he’d be fine, and he might have to give up Iron Man but Clint could still go down to his workshop and bother the shit out of him, and they could throw things and play stupid pranks on Fury.

The chemotherapy isn’t working.

Clint knows the statistics, he knew that Tony’s time was limited, but he’d somehow managed to convince himself that if he did everything he possibly could then Tony would be fine...

He isn’t fine, he isn’t going to be okay ever again and there is nothing Clint can do about it.

He gives in and the glass in his hand shatters with a less than satisfying crunch. He sweeps a pile of dirty dishes onto the floor which crack and smash, and that makes him feel marginally better. But it’s loud, so fucking loud, and it takes a moment for Clint to realise that he is screaming. Screaming and destroying Tony’s kitchen.

It turns to hysteric laughter when Clint realises that his and Bruce’s positions have switched.

This is where Natasha finds him, minutes later, laughing hysterically as tears streak down his cheeks surrounded by broken pottery and deafening silence. She says nothing, only clears the broken shards beside him so she can sit next to him, and pull him into her embrace. She is warm, and says calm even though Clint can feel tremors radiating through her. He cries until he’s done and then they sit in the ruined kitchen together, the pristine countertops not matching the chaos and broken people on the floor below.

“Tony’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out I destroyed his kitchen.”

“No he’s not,” Natasha whispers, “He hates half the stuff in here. He’ll act all mad, but he’ll secretly be pleased.”

“Yeah. He’ll probably use it as an excuse to redecorate too.”

“And the kitchen will smell like paint, and Cap will complain,”

“And Tony will remind him that everyone has a kitchen on their own individual floors,”

“Which we will all use as an invitation to hang out in Tony’s penthouse.”

“Tony’s penthouse doesn’t have any food in it.”

“We can fix that.”

“Yeah but...” Clint wants to ask if Natasha actually thinks Tony will be coming home, and if they’ll ever have an opportunity to watch these things actually play out, and then he gets a look at her face. Natasha cannot guarantee that Tony will make it home okay, but Clint sees that she believes he will. And until someone actually proves her wrong she is going to keep on believing that Tony will live another day. This is the only time he’s ever seen that expression on her face and Clint commits it to memory because he never wants to forget the day that the Black Widow had faith.

“...yeah.”

.

Loki looks suitably unimpressed when Thor faces him in his cell.

“After all this time, now you chose to visit me,” Loki’s voice is quiet, but it carries, “You could never resist taunting they prey you’d already caught, could you?”

Thor says nothing, allowing his brother’s harsh words to flow over him, crystallising the distaste he already has. Loki seems surprised when he does not instantly respond, so Thor waits a little longer.

“I wanted to speak with you,” he says after a while, and Loki raises a dubious eyebrow.

“Well go ahead and speak, there is nothing stopping you.”

Thor remains silent, and instead chooses to sit on the floor several paces from the cell and regard his brother. It is obvious that everything Loki does has been highly staged, but Thor wonders exactly what his brother is trying to hide. Is he happy that Thor has come to see him, or is the only thing he feels towards his once confidant a burning pile of resentment? Loki scoffs at his quiet and drops into a chair. There are several books about, but he reaches for none of them. He looks casual, but Thor knows he is being observed just as strongly as he is watching.

Thor can see him tensing ever so slightly as the silence continues. Loki builds his illusions to suit the people around him, but if they give him no input then his brother is left off balance. Loki eventually sighs.

“I thought you said you wanted to talk,” he snaps.

“Having spent most of my time recently upon Midgard, I have very little to say that might interest you.” His brother’s face is deliberately blank upon mention of Earth, but Thor can feel the tension in him building.

“Yes, because nothing in Midgard has ever interested me before.”

“Brother,” Thor says with interest, and he can see Loki doubting the wisdom of what he just said, “Are you actually saying you care about the fate of the race of people you attempted to destroy?”

Loki’s lips purse but his silence answers the question for him. Yes, for some bizarre reason, Loki does seem to actually care.

“Earth is fine. It faces new and bizarre challenges at every turn, but their people adapt to change so much faster than ours do, and it is invigorating to watch.” Loki’s eyes burn into him, and Thor knows this isn’t the question his brother wants answered. He waits, to see if Loki will actually request the knowledge he wants, or close himself off again. The moment grows longer as Thor forces himself to be still and Loki actually starts to fidget under his gaze.

“And the Avengers?” Loki’s voice is quiet, Thor wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been waiting for it, but he can see the desperation in his brother’s lack of eye contact. When Loki looks up again the mask is back in place, and Thor knows Loki is horrified at being so open with his brother.

“The Avengers are... surviving. Despite their race being so frail they have become quite adept at avoiding grievous injuries. None of them sustained any lasting damage after your invasion however Tony Stark, the Man of Iron, he was the one with the glowing circle in his chest that you threw out a window, has a disease known as cancer. Midgardians have no idea what causes it, nor any way to predict who will get it as it appears to spring up out of nowhere. They have treatments for it, but no cure as the nature of the disease turns portions of the body against themselves and it spreads throughout them like a fungus. It is believed Tony will have two Midgardian years to live, which means he will likely be dead before winter graces these Asgardian lands.”

Loki looks as if he does not care, but Thor tells him this anyway. Maybe it will make a difference and maybe it will not, but he at least owes his brother the effort.

“I came to Asgard to ask the All Father for medical advice, but he has decreed that Asgard has no resources to spare for a race of people who will be dead long before they could truly appreciate the efforts,” Thor makes no effort to keep the distaste our of his voice while telling this, and Loki’s mask almost seems to harden, as if he suddenly has more emotions to hide.

“I will likely not be back in Asgard until after Tony’s death.”

Loki isn’t looking at him. Thor stands up, stretching, knowing he has gleaned as much information from his brother as is reasonable to expect.

“You were right, you know?” Thor says on the way out, “About the All Father. You were absolutely right.”

Loki’s mask breaks to display shock, but Thor is already walking, determined not to waste any more time up here in Asgard if no help for Tony can be provided. Hopefully his words will give Loki something to think about, and he will be less hostile when Thor returns to him once again.

.

Tony looks peaceful when he is sleeping, Steve notes, unlike Bruce who looks downright miserable in the small chair he’s collapsed in. There are more comfortable chairs along the far side of the wall, where Steve is, but Bruce wanted to hold Tony’s hand. If Steve had his sketchbook here he would surely draw the two of them, but grabbing it hadn’t been on his list of things to do when running out the door to get to the hospital. He isn’t sure he will ever want to sketch this though because if Tony dies because of this...

Well he won’t dwell on it.

There is a knock on the door, and Thor pokes his head in.

“Hey,” says Steve, sliding over to make it obvious that there is room for Thor if he should so desire it.

“Hey,” Thor wanders into the room and up beside Tony’s bed. “What happened?”

“One of the tumors shifted the arc reactor casing so it was pressed up against Tony’s lung. Not super life threatening, but... there was a lot of pain.”

“What does that mean for Tony’s survival?”

“It means more chemotherapy and more painkillers. We won’t really know until he wakes up but he has a very likely chance of being sent home with a wheelchair. They think him running around so much was causing a great deal of the pain, but Tony would probably just end up being humiliated by it.”

Thor frowns at turns to drop into the seat beside Steve.

“Where’d you go earlier, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Asgard,” Thor mutters with distaste. When Steve raised an eyebrow he continued, “I asked the All Father if I could use Asgardian healing arts to help Tony. His refusal was... demeaning.”

“Demeaning how?”

“He claimed that since Midgardians are so short lived in comparison to us that there wasn’t any point is wasting Asgard’s precious resources on him.”

Steve winces. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I am already greatly disappointed with the way my brother has been handled. It is likely I could not speak to him without getting aggressive, which at this point would be hugely counterproductive. So I left. And I have no plans to go back until after all matters with Tony have been settled.”

“But what if Odin wants to talk to you?”

“Then he can come to me by him own damn self.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses, thinking over what Thor has said. “Thanks Thor. At least you made an attempt, right?”

“Right.”

Thor sounds disgruntled, but relaxes further into the chair beside Steve.”

“Have you talked to Jane yet?”

“Don’t remind me.”

.

Tony arriving home is a subtle affair, but it shifts the mood in the tower just a little bit, Natasha thinks. Tony walks slowly, held up mostly by Clint who looks absolutely thrilled just to have the man alive and in his arms, even if he is in a bit too much pain to trade his usual snark. Steve smiles into his book, and Thor flips through TV channels and everyone except Bruce pretends not to be watching the slow moving spectacle that is Tony Stark returning home.

It feels warm, to have them all back here, but also tinged with sadness because none of them can ignore the fact that soon enough their numbers will fall.

Clint gets Tone seated on the couch, and then runs around grabbing drinks, blankets, anything the man might want, but Tony just laughs, accepts the ginger ale and then tells him to sit the fuck down, which Clint eventually does. They laugh and talk and tell stories, Steve has to step in when Tony almost starts a pillow fight, but it’s happy and relaxed.

They all end up piled on top of each other in the middle of Tony’s admittedly comfy floor, and it’s awkward, but it’s warm and Natasha can tell that no one would rather be anywhere else. They end up watching Wall-e just for something fluffy and fun, before eventually deciding that falling asleep on the floor was something they shouldn’t do.

Bruce helps Tony up, and they leave, hopefully to get the man some actual rest in an actual bed for once.

The mood gets somber after that, and the four of them end up staying awake long into the night. They talk of people they’ve already lost, and it’s painful and sharp, but none of them is alone and that is how they are going to survive this.

Tony dying is absolute hell for all of them, but they need to become a united front.

Because if it’s hell for them, Natasha can only imagine what is feels like for Bruce.

.

 Bruce wakes with Tony curled into his side. His face still looks a bit crinkled, so Bruce knows the position he’s in must hurt, but then he groans and Bruce can tell that whatever dream he’s having is fantastic. Then he shifts a bit more and Bruce suddenly realises why. Though a wistful smile coats his face, Bruce realises that it’s kind of sad that this is the only sexual contact he’s had with his partner, and said partner is asleep.

When Tony’s eyes flicker open he looks so gloriously relaxed that Bruce just wants to kiss him, but the man’s mind quickly goes into over drive and upon realising their situation he attempts to pull away, which just gets him into a lot more pain.

“Easy, easy,” Brice whispers into his trembling skin, hands stroking through his hair. Tony groans rolling into him, and Bruce has to fight the answering wave of arousal. The Hulk growls in the back of his mind, not wanting him to resist something they both want, but Bruce projects Tony’s uncertainty, and he quiets down.

“Fuck, sorry,” Tony holds very still, “This is awkward.”

“Is it really? I thought it was normal, especially for you.”

“Yeah well... doesn’t it bother you?” oh dear god, is Tony blushing?

“Bother me how?”

“I mean aren’t you not supposed to... because of the Hulk?” Tony is totally blushing.

“The Hulk is cool with it.”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you?” Bruce prompted, after an agonising silence.

“It’s... Not in the way you think it would.”

“So what sort of way is it actually?”

“Well you had the Hulk thing and I’ve got scars that are ugly as fuck, and anyone touching anywhere near the arc reactor... it’s just really really bad and I thought it would just be easier to give you space and—“ Tony breaks off as Bruce shifts to get closer to him.

“So I won’t touch the arc reactor. Anything else?” Tony looks gorgeous, Bruce decides, mouth half open, torn between apprehension and lust.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Tony whispers.

Bruce lets Tony control the pace, and tries to commit everything to memory. The scent of sweat on his skin, the soft pants he makes, the elegant fringe of hair that falls delicately over his forehead.

Bruce can feel the Hulk, alive and present, but for once making no effort to take over at all. The Hulk understands, probably better than Bruce does, that the days are numbered. This is something he wants Bruce to have.

Afterwards they lay together, Tony acting as a blanket for Bruce, who could swear the extra skin contact was making the Hulk purr.

“Ngh,” Tony grunts, “Sorry for being an idiot about that.”

“It's fine,” Bruce whispers, playing with a shaggy strand of hair, “It was delightfully you.”

Bruce accepts the smack that follows that comment without complaint.

.

Steve knew Tony’s state was deteriorating, but he didn’t know just how much until the day Tony comes home with a breathing apparatus. He looks so defeated, sitting in the wheelchair that is now mandatory to be in whenever the doctors are involved even if Tony doesn’t use it otherwise, hugging an oxygen tank to his chest. His eyes are downcast, as if he’s ashamed to be seen like this.

Steve feels a lump form in his throat, but he absolutely refuses to cry, now or later. Sure it feels bad to watch Tony slowly collapse, but Steve feels so fucking guilty because things are worse for Tony, worse for Bruce. How could Steve dare to feel sorry for himself because so many people around him have it worse.

“Hey,” he says, as Pepper pushes his chair forwards, “How did it go.”

“Not good,” Tony responds, “Not good.”

.

Tony’s condition deteriorates a little more, until walking by himself is a near impossibility. The Avengers and Jane, whom has flown in because Thor has no intention of leaving, take turns watching over him, getting him where he needs to go and lifting heavy things that he no longer can.

But it stabilises there, and everyone almost feels relief. It’s not the happiest balance, but it’s something they can live with, something they can adapt to. Tony creates a variant of the Iron Man suit which stabilises him when he walks, and carries oxygen so he can have both his hands free. No one is particularly happy that he’s basically become entirely reliant on hisexoskeleton, but he’s better when he can get around by himself so they let him do it.

Tony starts one final project which he wants to keep secret from them, which they all reject because Tony being alone in his lab is never a good thing, so Natasha convinces Tony to let Jane in on the project.

Then Jane walks around with a secret smile on her face, and refuses to tell anyone else why.

They have movie nights, Tony’s robotic arms start food fights, villains come and go with the avengers kicking ruthless ass because fighting stupid doom bots is not what they want to do with their time and having Tony give snarky but useful commentary reminding them of why he’s at home and not there with them only makes them angry.

Tony hacks into the hellicarrier’s controls, and adds ridiculous and unfitting sound effects to all the doors, elevators, and as responses to any obvious voice commands. Fury’s rant about that has them all in stitches.

Things are not great, but they are okay, and they stay okay for weeks.

Then Tony’s lungs start filling up with fluid and it all goes to hell.

.

When it becomes obvious that there is nothing else they can do for him, they stop giving him everything but the ridiculous painkillers. Tony hates being confined to a bed in a hospital room, but he’d hate being confined in a bed at his own home even more because there the workshop is temptingly close.

When he has energy he complains a lot, but even that is running thin.

Bruce sits beside him, watching his uneven breaths rise and fall, trying to contain the emotional roller coaster that is threatening to burst from his chest. Tony alternates between being desperately grateful for his presence, or horrifyingly sad that Bruce has to be here to watch him collapse like this.

Thor becomes stiff and blank, Clint becomes sullen and violent, and Pepper attempts to put on a brave face but more often than not ends up leaving the room attempting not to cry. Iron Patriot, whom Bruce has never met before this point, storms in and the two have an odd sort of goodbye, which Bruce thinks both of the should have been drunk for, but Tony can’t mix alcohol with his medication, so that conversation was awkward and emotional and filled with the memories you make when you’ve know someone for years.

Which Bruce will never have.

Bruce knew this would happen going in to it, but he couldn’t help the irrational spike of jealousy that course through him. He could have left Tony alone with Rhodey, but the Hulk wanted to see Tony happy, so they stayed.

It is Steve who ends up surprising him the most. One night, long after Tony has fallen into a fitful slumber, Steve explains slowly that he watched his mother go through something quite similar at a very young age. They didn’t have the money for long term healthcare, so she suffered the agony from home, with her young son doing all he could but always failing to make her better. Her death was slow and painful, just like Tony’s but Steve says that Tony is a lot more peaceful than his mother ever was. If the modern day has done anything, it’s allowing people to relax.

Bruce stays beside Tony when the horrid coughing fits begin, and Bruce stays when Tony is unable to keep awake for more than an hour.

And every time Tony closes his eyes, Bruce wonders if this one will be the last.

And every time he decides it’s worth it to wait around and hope that they open again.

.

Tony dies in his sleep in the middle of the afternoon. There is no one around except Bruce and Natasha, and neither of them are dormant for long. Bruce knows that he’s in denial, and he will be for a while, but that doesn’t stop him from calmly administering the chemical that will cause his body to mimic life for several more hours.

Natasha is quick to remove the arc reactor, stuffing it into a bag, and then leaving to a predetermined safe house to ensure that Tony’s prized technology doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.

This was the plan. This has always been the plan. Bruce doesn’t feel happy about it, but it’s what Tony will want.

Would want.

.

When Nick Fury steps into the room, the Hulk is sitting beside Tony’s bed. He shows no signs of aggression, and barely even acknowledges Fury’s presence. Something must be going on, because this is not where Tony was three days ago. The location is remote, and suspiciously quiet.

Tony’s chest rises and falls, the light of the Arc Reactor missing.

“How is he?” Fury asks, and the Hulk responds with a non-committal grunt.

Fury stands for another three minutes, then Tony’s heart monitor flat lines, and numerous machines begin to wail. The emptiness is pronounced now that Fury is acutely aware of the lack of footsteps.

If no one is going to help him Fury will, but Tony’s body is unresponsive, and deft fingers reveal a gaping hole where his mechanical heart used to fit.

Hulk crunches the wailing machines with two fingers.

Silence reigns over the room.

“Been dead for a while,” Hulk grunts. “Nobody wanted you running off with Tony’s tech.

“What makes you think I would do that?” It probably isn’t a good idea to snap at Hulk, but he’s behaving just like Bruce would except he’s much greener.

“Oh this, maybe?” Steve is poking his head into the room, a modified version of the case that held the tesseract dangling in his palm.

“That was just a precaution.”

“In case Hydra shows up?” Steve sounds incredulous.

“They will.”

“Yeah sure, in about three days when Tony’s death is actually recorded.”

“And can you guarantee that the Arc Reactor will be safer wherever you put it, than with Shield?”

Hulks breath is hot on Fury’s neck, and though the fingers on him are gentle the sensation of being picked up is unsettling.

“Yes,” Hulk growls.

Then there is pressure, which Fury struggles against but Hulk does not let up until both of his legs are broken. He is then deposited like a used paper towel on a nearby chair.

“Come on,” Steve mutters, “We’re done here.”

“And whose brilliant idea was this?” Fury calls to the two retreating figures.

“Thor’s.” Steve’s smile looks downright evil, and Fury realises that he may have had no idea exactly what The Avengers were capable of before this point...

.

Clint, Natasha belatedly realises, does not deal with death particularly well. She doesn’t mind the screaming, and though she doesn’t particularly enjoy the flying furniture, she would rather Clint relieve his aggression rather than bottling it up, but when he gets to the point that he tries to tear out his own hair, she feels it’s necessary to step in.

Clint is not particularly happy to be manhandled, and actually lands a good punch in her gut before she manages to restrain him, but once he realises she had him down for the count, he finally stops struggling.

“Fuck, Goddamnit Tasha, why?” he mumbles.

“You can destroy the furniture all you like, but I’m not letting you hurt yourself,” it’s not the question he’s actually asking but she doesn’t have an answer for what he actually is.

“It’s not fair,” he replies, sounding more like a toddler than Natasha actually wants to admit.

“No. No it isn’t.”

“I did everything I possibly could, but he still—”

“Clint!” Natasha grips his chin and forces him to make eye contact. “It is not your fault.”

“I know that, but I still feel as if I should have done something!”

“Done what?”

“I don’t know!” Clint howls, “But there must have been something!”

“Maybe there was,” Natasha admits, “and maybe there wasn’t. Stressing over it is going to bring you nothing but pain.”

“I know, Tasha,” Clint whispers, “I know.”

She holds him, and they rock together amongst the debris that Clint is created. Clint tries not to cry, fails, and imagines a world where he wakes up and this was just a bad dream, and Tony will tease him for getting so worked up about his death.

And Natasha wonders if there is something wrong with her because she is so numb.

.

When it comes out to the world that the Great Tony Stark has met his passing, the internet explodes. Thousands of people reflect on his life and his legacy. There are those who mock him for his life’s choices, and tear covered fan girls releasing messages that the wish they could have sent to the eccentric man while he was still alive.

The future of Stark Industries comes into question now and the legal battles over who gets to keep Iron Man suits, merchandise, and titles is now a lot more public.

A team of highly trained professionals who may or may not be Shield agents storm the Malibu house, not only finding absolutely nothing, but causing masses of angry fans not only in the states but across the world toorganise protests demanding that the suits... well that’s where the consistency ends. Somewhere other than in the hands of the government.

Several finicky debates later it gets proven that not only was the raid on Malibu unlawful, but the suits belong, rightfully so, in the hands of the Avengers, on the single condition that their integrity is not compromised by giving pieces to Shield or any other organisation with similar or harmful intentions.

Pepper only returns to the tower once, and when she does she’s bitter and haggard, her face set into hard pinched lines, numbing the grief so she can fight for the things Tony wanted.

She takes one look at them, at Bruce who’s asleep in Thor’s lap, at Clint who sits on the floor by them slowly and methodically ripping a stack of paper into shreds, at Steve and Natasha who’ve moved the essential kitchen supplies into the living room so the five of them never have to be out of the same room, at Jane who did what Pepper could not and managed to be together and apart, watching over them from a chair, nose deep in a book that Tony had filled with scrawled handwriting in the margins.

Pepper takes one look at them, and as tears fill the corners of her eyes, she storms out.

.

There is a public funeral, at three in the afternoon, for all of the business associates, and people who think Tony Stark touched their lives, but for those to whom it actually matters the funeral occurred a full twelve hours earlier.

Tony always seemed more alive at three in the morning, so it seems oddly fitting, but that’s not the only reason.

Bruce doesn’t make an appearance at all, and though the Shield agents are fidgety, the Hulk is calm and somber throughout the entire event.

“Bruce can’t deal with this,” Hulk says, “But I can.”

Steve wonders, now that the damp of reality is slowly sinking into their bones, if they will even see Bruce anymore. Bruce was so scared of hurting people, but Hulk seems to be doing fine by himself, and if it hurts less for him to retreat within his own mind.

Steve doesn’t think it’s healthy, but he certainly can’t blame him.

.

Pepper is numb.

She gets up in the morning, has a shower and eats a piece of toast. She puts on clothes that make her look strong and professional, and makeup that makes her beautiful by hiding the wounds she cannot face.

She faces the board of directors, lawyers, press, and ever growing piles of paperwork, and she goes through them methodically like a machine. When she has a break she eats food, not because she wants too, but because she knows it’s necessary even though it tastes bland and is preventing her from pushing though more contracts or finalising another piece of the legal dance of settling Tony’s affairs.

People tell her to go home early and to take breaks and sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn’t. When she goes home she feels useless, staring at the same blank walls, repeating the same useless phrases over and over. But if she stays, she works into the night, filling her mind with nothing but legal jargon and game plans, and ends up in agony because Tony used to work like this.

Pepper wonders if he had something big and terrible that he was trying to drown out, just like she is, and then she regrets not being more understanding about his work cycle.

She regrets a lot of things about Tony now. She’d been so sure that he’d meat his end because of some stupid manufacturing incident, or worse strung up by some maniac that Shield told him to fight. Now that it’s over though, Tony being destined to meet his end like any other person, she wishes she’d told him to live a little.

Go out and smell the roses.

Pepper’s tried to smell the roses, but they don’t smell like all that much, and when she thinks about it the uselessness of it overwhelms her, so she tries not to think about it that much.

So she becomes numb; sharp, fierce, and dead on the inside.

She wakes up staring blankly at the ceiling, and goes to sleep close to the window so she can pretend there isn’t a huge gaping space in the bed beside her.

She doesn’t live, but she endures.

And she endures because Tony would never want her to do otherwise.

.

Thor’s footsteps echo through the long gilded halls. They are ostentatious and obscene, displaying a wealth that Asgard neither appreciates nor deserves.

He has not spoken to his father. He has not seen his mother. There is now only one purpose for his presence here.

Loki snaps to attention when Thor makes his appearance, but quickly remembers himself and slowly gets to his feet as Thor crosses the distance to his cell. Loki looks neither pleased nor disappointed, but whatever he sees in Thor’s face makes his own harden.

“So he is dead then,” Loki’s voice is quiet, not wanting confirmation, but at the same time needing it.

“Yes.”

Loki’s fists clench and unclench, and Thor wishes he knew what was racing through his brother’s mind.

“You are disappointed that the All Father didn’t allow you to heal him.”

“I talked it over with a healer. Even if I had been given permission, there was nothing we could have done; nothing like the disease even exists on Asgard. I am disappointed that Odin didn’t even allow me to try.”

“Don’t Asgardian healers have better things to than sit around discussing people that can no longer be saved?” Loki snaps.

“Not really. There aren’t an abundance of illnesses that can affect us. If they are going to sit around doing nothing anyway, they might as well be discussing something interesting.”

Loki quirks an eyebrow but says nothing.

“He would have liked you.”

Loki scoffs. “What makes you say that? Did he not abhor any creature that infringed upon his precious planet?”

“He had a keen appreciation for wit.”

Loki drops the annoyed look, gazing past Thor’s shoulder and onto the wall behind him.

“Has Odin postponed the coronation due to your insurmountable grief?” There is dark anger in Loki’s voice, but the question is an honest one.

“There will be no coronation.”

“What?”

“Odin refuses to hand the throne to you, and I refuse to take it, so until another eligible heir comes around, the All Father will just have to make do.”

“You are forsaking the throne of Asgard?”

“I have no desires to be chained to realm whose politics revolves entirely around racism.”

“As King you could change that.”

“I have no mind for politics; you know this better than I. I am a warrior at heart, but the only battles here are to make the falsely accused inferiors know their place, and I will not do that.”

“You’re going to live in Midgard.” There is shock on Loki’s face, and no disapproval in his tone. Thor takes it to mean that he’s done something right for once.

“Aye.”

“That’s bold of you.”

Thor shrugs.

“You’d really leave me here to rot,” Loki murmurs.

“Actually, I’d hoped that you’d join me.”

“My sentence—“

“Is for three hundred years. After that.”

Loki sighs. “Thor...”

“Give up these cursed dreams, brother. Abandon this stagnant realm to rot in its own stupidity, do something worth your time.”

“And what if I don’t think Midgard is worth my time?”

“Well then I guess you’re going to have to find something better and prove it.”

.

Bruce runs. He loves runningrunning runningnow, as through trying to outrun the memories.

He’s dimly aware that he’s somewhere in Canada, but he lets the Hulk focus on avoiding being seen and finding the best food supply. He’s in the Hulk form right now, but the two of them are nigh inseparable, and Bruce is just so thankful that he doesn’t have to be alone.

He pities all those people out there. All those people who go through grief and hard times and are left alone, tapped within their own minds, with only the warped sympathy f those around them to help them survive.

But Bruce doesn’t have to be alone.

He is himself and he is Hulk, just as Hulk is himself and also him. Living totally separate lives was doing horrible things to the both of them, but Bruce had to protect the people around from the monster he thought he was.

But then Tony was gone gone gone, and Bruce just wanted to curl up and hide for once, not have to be in control, to let go and just be... and the Hulk stepped in.

He stepped in and let Bruce hide.

And when Bruce became terrified that something irreplaceable might have been destroyed he opened his mind and...

They communicated.

Before, Hulk knew very little of Bruce’s life except what endangered him, and Bruce knew very little of what happened as Hulk other than the pictures that occasionally slipped through.

Now they have a compromise. They don’t shut each other out anymore.

And it’s hard because sometimes when Bruce is Bruce he feels like he’s being watched, and sometimes Hulk wants to rip off the reins and be free, and sometimes Bruce gets frustrated because Hulk has a hard time communicating with language rather than emotion, and sometimes Hulk gets frustrated because he has thoughts and has no idea how to express them. Language is a nuanced art, and though Hulk is learning, it will take time.

But Hulk just wants everyone they love to be okay, and Bruce didn’t realise how much pain he was putting the man, not a monster, not a creature, the man living beside him through.

So they compromise.

And now they’re running running running.

But it’s not away from the memories.

With Tony gone, it feels like there is a gap inside him, some welling hole within him that spreads numbness throughout him and makes it hard to be motivated to do anything.

But then he runs. And the pounding beat of footsteps is the rhythm that reminds him he’s still alive, and the wind through his hair makes it almost feel like he’s flying like Tony used to do.

When he’s still and thinks of Tony the memories make him sad, but when he’s running he can remember all the things that Tony did. All the silly jokes and the stupid pranks. All the fights he survived through sheer snark and the soft smiles he made at three in the morning when they were doing science and he thought Bruce wasn’t looking. The softness of the skin connecting his thumb to his palm, and the taste of his tongue on Bruce’s inner cheek.

When he runs, Bruce can laugh and enjoy the memories for what they are, treasured times with a precious person, and he never wants to forget any of them.

If he stares at the objects he used to hold, and the walls he used to inhibit, Bruce is afraid the memories he has will becomes corrupted with the same horrific sense of loss that has swarmed over every other part of his life.

He will go back eventually.

But first he has to commit every smile, brilliant or sorrowful, every laugh, beautiful or haunting, every tear, frantic or resigned. He lost the man he loved, but he refuses to lose all that he has left.

He doesn’t run to forget.

He runs to remember.

.

Bruce takes off, and Steve doesn’t blame him. Things are tough, and even though that time when Thor went back to Asgard was really tough, they pull through.

Natasha is horribly blank, and Clint is ridiculously violent, but they pull through.

Jane suggests that instead of living where everything reminds them of the death they couldn’t prevent, that they move home base a few floors down the tower. It’s far enough away that they could hopefully get some sleep, but close enough that they don’t feel they are abandoning Tony’s memory.

Steve readily agrees, and even though it only helps a tiny margin, that margin is so blessedly helpful when Steve is still trying to process that Tony really is...

He keeps expecting the man to be whining at the coffee machine when Steve can’t sleep at three in the morning, and he keeps expecting Tony to barge in, demanding to know why they moved all the way down here, now he’d have to walk down nine flights of stairs if he didn’t have an elevator.

It sounds exactly like something Tony would say, except he’s never going to.

Steve told himself it was going to be okay. He’d seen friends die before, known people who’ve died slowly from illness, he’d known it was going to suck balls, but he’d crawl his way out and survive.

Captain America has to keep fighting, no matter how many soldiers have fallen.

And even when there’s no one around to fight, Steve keeps a watchful eye over his companions. Maybe it’s because the fine line between Steve Rodgers and Captain America has been slowly blurring and the two mixing, making it impossible for Steve to pull out all the red white and blue shards, even if he wanted to. Maybe it’s because he’d finally managed to beat back the ice, but then Tony... and now the cold is creeping back into his veins, making it hard to sleep. Maybe it’s just because he doesn’t want to lose anyone else.

But it’s why, even when Clint screams and throws kitchenware, lamps and laptops, and pretty much anything he can get his hands on, Steve calms him down and forgives him. And when Natasha gets that blank look on her face that says she’s anywhere but with them, Steve will spend as many hours as it takes to pull her out of her mind and back into herself. It’s why, when curled in the dark of a recent Clintastrophy, Thor confesses to not wanting to not wanting to be Asgardian anymore because of the horrific things they represent that Tony opened his eyes to, Steve throws an arm around his shoulder and tells him his birth family doesn’t matter: It’s the family you choose. And when Clint makes an angered comment about Thor being useless because he couldn’t get Asgardian healthcare and Jane slaps him across the face, Steve tells her it’s not her fault, and when anyone wakes up screaming they all pile on each other giving comfort and support.

And when Bruce staggers home, exhausted, burdened, but released, Steve welcomes him with open arms.

Clint complains, and asks why they haven’t gotten that special last gift that was Tony’s last project, and Jane just purses her lips.

“Tony would never let a project go unfinished,” she says. “You’ll get it when it’s done.”

.

It’s Clint who starts it. One day he comes home bam spanking drunk, and when Steve asks him what the hell he was thinking Clint responds, “Well, It’s what Tony would have done.”

“Really,” Natasha says dryly.

“Then he would have been all ‘I’m Tony Stark, and I’m soooo awesome cause I can get drunk and then drive even though that’s suuuuper illegal’.”

“Tony does not sound like that,” Thor says, while Jane buries her face in her drink, trying to drown out the surprised laughter.

“And could you do it better?”

Thor frowns puzzled, but Bruce stands.

“Cmon, you can’t ask Point Break here,” Bruce recites in a near prefect imitation of Tony, “He could never do me justice. Besides, I’ve got better abs.”

This time Jane does laugh, as does Clint. And Steve finds himself smiling as Bruce strikes a ridiculous pose, only to be pushed sideways by Natasha, who does a ridiculous version of Tony Stark filled with accentuated pelvic thrusting.

Thor decides what everyone needs is liquor, and the night just gets crazier from there.

They’re all laughing, and even though what they are doing is crazy and ridiculous, it seems fitting way to remember the eccentric billionaire.

They laugh at the stupid things he did, and the things he did to make other people look stupid. They make toasts to his legacy, and shout out things they wish they’d told him while he’d still been alive. They remember their friend for what he was, a great man, and at the end of the night they dare to dream of a future that still had him in it, even though they know it’s one they can never live.

.

It takes Clint three weeks after the first drunken debacle to finally let the violent anger go, and another two weeks after that until Thor can walk around with some kind of pride. It’s another month after that when Clint can actually say that Tony is dead, another three months when Bruce stops taking off out of the blue, and another six months after that Steve lets go of protecting them enough to start thawing out his own heart.

It’s past the year anniversary of his death, but Natasha still feels like there is a demon of grief inside of her. She’s happy that all of her friends are laughing once again, without Tony but still about Tony, or even sometimes not about him at all, but she still feels like she’s walking on eggshells. Any wrong move would send her spiraling back into grief, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

She wasn’t trained for this. She can evade torture and interrogate like no other, but she was never supposed to have friends. And then there she was, and when surrounded by The Avengers, it feels stupid not to have friends.

But while their moving forwards into a bright new future, she’s still stuck here, battling out the same problems over and over, knowing she has a problem but being absolutely unsure what to do about it. Could anything even be done about it?

Maybe so many years of being unbreakable has made her fragile.

She’s turning these thoughts over and over when she stumbles into Tony’s lab.

It looks exactly as it did over a year ago, meticulously maintained by Jarvis, not even a thin layer of dust. It feels like she’s stepped back in time, and if she just called out, Tony would come running, even though the last time he was in this lab he was certainly in no condition to run.

There’s a rack of Iron Man suits along the wall, and oxygen tanks stacked upon a table, all of Tony’s good and bad together to be judged in this space that is half here and defies time.

Natasha walks through Tony’s projects, wondering why she came here, but she has to stop and look at the designs for a stronger suit for her and Clint, and then pokes the experimental device that was supposed to make Steve’s shield return to him like Mjolnir did.

And the further she walks into the lab, the more she realises that Tony wasn’t designing anything for himself. Everything here is for the Avengers, even Hulk and Thor who don’t really use technology.

This is Tony’s heart. The place he was most comfortable.

And there is nothing here but The Avengers.

It’s here that Clint finds her, turning an adamantium tipped arrow that Tony made over and over, trying to reconcile the feeling swirling around in her that she can neither understand nor control.

Clint just holds her tight, comforting her for once, rocking her back and forth, and whispering into her hair. She had no idea when it happened, but suddenly she is surrounded by warmth, and realises that they are all here. Thor and Bruce and Clint and Steve, and Jane who has no reason to be here but still is because she wants to be and Tony Tony Tony, who is gone but still present. In them and around them, never leaving, because they never want him to be gone.

And Natasha realises she had been so afraid of letting go because once people die you are supposed to forget them, and Tony was beautiful and she never wanted to forget him, but that was wrong.

Tony lives on, because he lives within them.

And he will never be forgotten, because they will never let him go.

And Natasha, surrounded by her family in the heart of the man who forged the bonds that keep them together, The Black Widow falls away and for the first time in years, Natasha allows herself to cry.

.

Tony’s final gift is a USB stick.

Clint could scoff, but Jane is acting like it’s the keys to the world, so Clint holds his tongue. She hasn’t started showing yet but she will soon, and the glow of the too be mother mixes with that of a student presenting a master’s art to create an atmosphere of solemn hope.

He takes the device offered to him, and contemplates simply asking Jane what it is before deciding to just look at its contents in his own room where he can be as emotional as he likes without disturbing anyone.

Though if Tony has made a personalised goodbye video... oh someone was going to die.

But it isn’t.

The USB stick plugs in, and opens up a file with a fancy symbol that means Jarvis is involved.

It asks him to create a password.

Clint does so with slow, hesitating fingers, and when he hits enter the USB dissolves and the screen expands. At first he’s shocked that Tony would give a useless gift that explodes, then he realises that it’s totally something Tony would do and chuckles darkly.

Then he looks at the screen.

“Jarvis, it this what I think it is?” Clint asks in shock

“That would depend on what you think, sir,” the British voice responds.

“No way. No way would Tony give us access to his full database.”

“Indeed he has.”

“But that’s everything! Iron Man, the arc reactor, Jericho, everything! I thought he didn’t want anyone to have those.”

“He didn’t want them to fall into the hands of people he didn’t trust. But I can assure you that he has encouraged you all to do anything and everything with the information that he has gathered over the years.”

“Oh my god. Tony’s entire database.”

“Pardon my interruption, but there is more to that gift.”

“Tell me Jarvis, what am I missing!”

“Sir has given you all the key to the most powerful thing he’s ever created.”

“What’s that?”

“Me.”

**Author's Note:**

> There may eventually be a third work in the series focusing on Loki. Anyone interested?


End file.
